A Sacrifice
by Ellis Monroe
Summary: All my life I have had to learn to survive. It was the only thing left to do in a world as broken and corrupt as the one I live in now. But now I see that survival is very much like a game. There are a set of rules that must be followed that will help you win or in other words, stay alive. But wining ensures that you live, if not, it's not just the game that ends. It's your life.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfiction on The Hunger Games!

I've been thinking about this story for quite some time and just never got around to writing it. This is a story that I think could have happened in a past Hunger Games and does not have most of the original cast of characters, but I hope you'll still read it. :)

 **I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES!**

Enjoy!

* * *

 _I move silently through the brush with grace but alertness. I skip each stick and pine to avoid being heard by my prey. It is about four hours after noon and the mockingjays sing softly in the wind. I have found ways to communicate with them to help locate where I am and where my game lies. There singing leads me more west so I follow their guidance._

 _I leap atop a fallen tree log and balance my way to the top of the hill it rests on. I gather old brittle leaves and crush them and watch which direction they flee to in the wind. The wind blows north and the sun is headed west. I know where my prey is hiding._

 _The tree not ten feet away has short broken branches that are easy to scale. Supporting my weight with my feet and carefully pulling at the short wooden limbs I climb higher towards the intertwined branches above. This way they will not see me coming from here. It is almost a pity that prey can never see their immediate doom coming closer feet by crippling feet. The branches up here are much stronger so there is little balance that is needed but you can never be too careful. One wrong move and it's the end of a hunt for the day._

 _Keeping my bow in place I slip on of the twelve arrows from the quiver and rest it on the grip. A snap from below alerts all six of my senses and I lock the arrow in place and pull back the string against the weight of the bow. I slow the drawing so that the stretching doesn't give too much sound._

 _I can see my prey from here. They wander lifelessly through the brush, completely unaware that I have found them. I lock my eyes to my target, the back of the neck. It will ensure an immediate kill, not one ounce of pain, not one subtle sound._

 _They stop for a moment, questioning if they are truly alone. They look into the distance around them, oblivious to what the can see. A golden leaf breaks free from the branch I am perched on and flutters down bellow, right in front of their form. Before I can give them the time to turn and look above, I release the arrow._


	2. Chapter 2

Here is chapter 2!

 **I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES!**

* * *

The arrow lodges into the trunk not one foot away from the doe. It's head shoots up and it's onyx black eyes look in the direction from where I am crouched in the tree. It stares back at me for a moment longer than it should. I could have easily drawn a second arrow and release it right between those dark orbs, but I wait.

When it sees I wont fire again it dashes away into the vast green of the forest. It always took me a second try to make a kill because I always thought it fair that I give my prey the chance to know I am coming. It was something my father had always taught me. _Killing without giving your prey an upper advantage is not as rewarding._ He would say. _I don't just want to teach you to survive, I want to teach you how to hunt and find your prey wherever it may go._

I take quick long steps along the branches of the trees and head farther north where the doe had gone. My father taught me that it will run farther than you may think it will so its best to keep a constant but quiet pace when trying to track it once again.

I continue balancing my steps in the trees for another few minutes and find its dry wood colored fur in a thicker brush below. It knows I am still near but continues to eat the thin moss along the bark. This is it, I have given it it's chance so I will not miss again.

I ready the second arrow and draw back the string with only one small creak escaping the grip. It's ears twitch up and looks in the opposite direction from where I am. I pause for a moment thinking that something else lies out there that will scare off my soon to be game. It will not be too much of a shame. A peacekeeper pays handsomely for a wolf skin or a bears head than a lifeless doe.

But I see a smaller form walk out from the thick brush a head. It's smaller than the doe but has it's same onyx eyes. It's brown fur is darker and covered in white specks and streaks, probably to hide from predators hungrier than me. The faun walks slowly with it's twig thin legs to the doe and stumbles to her side. The doe licks the faun's head as it reached up to nurse.

I never noticed that my bow and arrow were already resting at my knee.

It always made me wonder how difficult _our_ lives had become, that _their_ lives had somehow remained intact and unchanged. I let out one long sigh and moved back in the direction I had come, not bothering to keep my steps on the branches quiet and slow. The two rabbits I had snared a while back and the three squirrels I pinned to the same tree would be all I would leave with today. I take one look back to where the doe and her faun had once been only to see that they were already gone.

* * *

Our district was know to be the poorest of the twelve. Until after thirteen was destroyed all of the coal miners had to do an extra amount of labor since coal had also come from thirteen. We were drained bone dry of coal for nearly three years and many people died from the harsh winters and sickness that couldn't be treated without heat and fire.

Many families had also starved from not being able to mine and our population had decreased by nearly one quarter. It had almost seemed we were on the brink of extinction, until the Capital was forced to cut back on coal to give more time to dig for more.

Not long after we had struck black gold and were brought nearly back to where we were before and families were once again fed.

I had recently reached my eighteenth year but my last reaping would be three days from today. I was the eldest of all of my friends and many of them still had a reaping or two more to surpass.

The mines wouldn't be too difficult for me. The many years of my father teaching me how to hunt game and scale countless numbers of trees have left me strong and armored in thick muscle I still had trouble noticing was there. He had always told me that it was just for precaution if he had died soon and would want to leave me as strong as I could be on my won, but I couldn't help but wonder if everything that he taught me was for something far worse.

I enter District 12 through the old electric and am welcomed back with the dry burning smells of coal and oil from the factories. Many of the houses have long since faded with dry and chipped wood and miraculously have remained standing given that they've been passed down for generations beyond measure.

The rabbits and squirrels swing over my right shoulder as I enter one of the shops I would trade for bread and money. I exchange two of the squirrels for a loaf of freshly baked bread and the last one for an ounce of money. My father and I always preferred eating the rabbits since they had more meat and were the only easy game that had a satisfying taste.

I walk back towards the east side of twelve near the Seam and see my own house in the distance. It was smaller than most because it only housed me and my father but wasn't as old and worn as the others. It was still about five past noon so it would be a while until he returned home from the mines. Since our recent discovery of black gold riches deeper in the mines men didn't have to work as long because there was still an abundant source left, so they had more time to rest and be with family.

My father tended to always go out and hunt for more game even though we had plenty of food and money to keep us going for the next winter, but he said we could never be too careful. He would always come back with more game over his shoulder than he could carry alone so I would help him dismantle it all and sell and trade as much as I could before most of it went bad and then come back home to help him get into bed in his daily exhausted state. I would purposely not wake him until later during the day knowing that he would need his rest no matter how many times he told me to do it at sunrise.

About two doors down from my house I see my old friend Benjamin sitting on his aunt and uncle's front porch. His house was on the other side of twelve near Victor's Village which was much larger than the rest and always looked clean, given that his mother owned the finest bakery in twelve that only the most fortunate could buy pastries from. He was a very good and selfless person often giving left over food and even some money to the poorer people in twelve.

He would also help his mother carry large sacks of flower and other ingredients in the shop which is how he retained a good build from all the long hours of lifting which I would occasionally help them with as well. He looks up from where he was gazing at the rubble ground and waves at me with a warm smile.

Just as I'm up my front porch steps and about to enter my house he's at my side in an instant.

"You know, you don't need to do that so often," he said hesitantly, gesturing at the two rabbits hanging over my shoulder by the snares. "We have plenty of food we can spare for an old friend."

I let go of the chipped door frame and look back to him take in his form. His clothes aren't blotched with dirt, his dark hair is clean and cut, his skin has hardly any blemishes and he smells like a well tended garden. He's shorter than me by more than half a foot given that I am well over six feet in height, but his kind grey eyes would never let you think he was ever intimidated by anyone like me.

We used to be very close, almost like brothers. But since his mother's bakery had given them more money he was forced to socialize with the wealthier kids in twelve and I always avoided him not wanting to burden him with the reputation of once being poor and hungry. But he told me that his wealth meant nothing but I just couldn't be friends with someone who didn't have to live in fear.

Survival was an instinct that I had grown too accustomed to and without it I felt as if I would be nothing. I know that I must have hurt him the last couple of years, but I couldn't allow myself to give up the only thing that made me feel safe.

In all honesty, I thought he was weak. And I knew that people like him wouldn't last long in this world so in order for me to remain strong I needed to distance myself from him so I wouldn't see myself as week. But really, I only saw myself as selfish. I stopped being his friend because he had nothing to worry about while I had nearly everything to worry about. Going hungry, losing our house and being forced to live on the rubble streets of District twelve, being alone.

I attempt to return his friendly offer with a weak smile, "Thanks kiddo, I'll keep that in mind." His face warms up slightly at my response. I had given him that nickname because no matter what kind of day he was having he always remained positive and bright like a little kid, even though he was only a year younger than me.

I turn back to head inside only to feel a hand on my shoulder which stops me in place. "Wait," he whispers. I let out a long breath not sure of what he wants from me but I turn back to him not wanting to be rude. He looked slightly sad now, the kindness drained from his grey eyes, then I see that he's taking me all in. Probably noticing all the cuts on my arms and face and missing pieces of my clothes from climbing through barbed trees.

He looks at me in the eye and hesitates before speaking. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I think that's my line."

"No. I'm the one that should be saying it."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, I didn't even bother coming to talk to you, no matter how many times you avoided me. A real friend doesn't just abandon you like you were nothing to them."

"Ben it's not your fault," I try to convince him, "I'm the one who cut ties with you, I should be apologizing. I just thought you like your new circle of friends so I didn't want to intrude." I couldn't tell him why I truly didn't want to be near him. The kindness that he showed everyone could easily be taken for weakness but I didn't want to change that about him, because then he wouldn't be _him_ anymore, he would be more like _me_.

"Liked them? I _hated_ them!" He exclaimed. I was in shock at his response, Ben never really hate anyone he accepted a lot of people and was never quick to judge. "They treated people that were poorer than us like they were nothing. They would beat them until they passed out and spat in their faces when they asked for food or money. I stopped being with them a long time ago and haven't talked or been with them since."

"Then why not come back to me, or the rest of us?" I asked.

"Because I thought you hated me," He says, sounding as if he were fighting back tears.

"That's ridiculous how could we ever hate you?"

"The others knew what those kids did to those people and they knew I was one of them. I thought that was the reason I never saw any of you and why _you_ avoided me so much." His eyes slowly fell to the dusty boards of the porch.

"No, Kiddo, that was never the-," Before I could finish speaking his arms were already wrapped tightly around my waist. The air from my lungs was rushed out in a small grunt at the constriction of his embrace and his head buried into my chest.

"Please," he whispered, "please don't hate me for leaving all of you for those people."

I never even put much thought about how Ben hardly had any friends given that he no longer spoke to the wealthier kids. Of course they would never accept him back with him being to tied to people like me, and everyone else would assume he was like all other wealthy people, selfish and proud.

There were some times when I would pass by his house to reach a local peace keeper to trade with and I would hear him playing on the old wooden upright piano in his living room outside of his house. I had always liked hearing him play when we were younger and he even offered to teach me, but I much rather see his hands drift over the ivory keys than mine constantly fluttering here and there for the right notes. But the last time I had gone I heard him sing while he played. I had looked through the window and his back was facing me but it was surely him singing. His voice was surprisingly high for how deep it sounded and the song he was singing had words in it that spoke of being without anyone but himself. Had Ben really spent all these years alone with not one friend?

My chest became heavy with the thought of me-who had always fended off the bigger kids that bullied him for being shorter and fighting all of them off when he was being beaten behind the Hob-leaving him to be with no one. My own arms instinctively wrapped around his smaller body holding him closer to me.

"No Ben, please don't hate _me_ for leaving _you_ all alone."

After a short while he had finally let go and looked me right in my eyes.

"No, You didn't-"

"Yes I did Ben. I abandoned you when you needed me the most. I should have been there for you."

"But you're here now," he reassured me. "And you don't hate me, right?" he asked.

"No. Never." I said and drew him back into my arms.

After a long while we finally released one another and I was glad to see the familiar light in his seam eyes. "Hey, after you and your dad have dinner why not come by and have desert at the bakery."

"Ben, we couldn't accept that, especially with us-"

"Don't worry about it," He said kindly. "We have plenty to spare, and it's been a long time since you've been there and well, I miss you." He looked away from me with a shy smile.

"I miss you too kiddo," I said ruffling my hand through his silky dark hair.

He quickly fought off my hand while taming his hair back in place. "So I'll see you around this evening?"

"Definitely," I smiled back at him and then he drew me into one last long embrace.

"Good," he said. "I'll see you then."

* * *

Ben and I spent most of our free time together in the days that followed. Just after the first night eating at the bakery it felt like we never really parted. He did tell me though that he was very scared for the reaping. I would expect no less of him. Last year our friend Markus was chosen as the male tribute of District 12.

I wrapped my arm around him as we sat on the bench outside his house. "Don't worry about it Ben," I said. "If you get picked, I'll go in your place."

"You wouldn't", he looked at me in horror.

"Of course I would and you know it," I said back to him firmly.

"Well," he said taking in a long breath while resting his head on my shoulder. "We might not have to worry about that happening. The odds might be in our favor."

 _May the odds be ever in your favor._

It was a old quote from the Capital once the Hunger Games would begin. But we all knew of course that there were no odds in our favor.

It felt like years had passed since Ben and I had reconnected and I hoped that the Reaping would not put any of that to a stop. Each Reaping was like any other. The Hall of justice would be swarmed with Peacekeepers and the boys and girls would be assorted on two different sides.

As I had finished getting ready for the Reaping in front of the mirror I looked more closely at myself. My wavy light brown hair was slicked back and I was wearing one of my fathers best dress shirts and slacks. He had told me many years ago that the reason why I didn't have the olive skin, dark hair and grey eyes of the Seam was because of my mother.

He rarely ever spoke of her and to this day I still do not know how she had died. As the years had assed she had begun to sound more of a memory to me than an actual person. It must have been terrible if he kept silent about it for so long.

When he entered my room he helped fix my collar and comb back a few hairs I missed. He looked back at my reflection in the mirror and gazed at me if I were someone else. _He must be thinking of her,_ I thought.

I was just about to leave for the Reaping when he gently gripped my hand. I turned to face him and saw him smile with his weary face. He slowly stepped close to me and wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders.

"This is the last year," he said silently. "Then we'll have no more worries."

"Yeah," I said back to him, but could not allow myself to think that _all_ of our worries would be gone. "I'll be spending the afternoon with Ben afterwards. But I'll be back just in time for supper."

"Good," he said.

Ben had waited for me on my porch when I was just about to leave.

"I couldn't go alone," he said.

What shocked me was that the light in his eyes had appeared more dim. I understood that each year two children would leave the districts and never again come back, but I still could not fathom why people acted so distraught about it. This was the way things always were as far as any of us had known. The better adapted we become to something the more prepared we are for surviving the real terror.

I patted his should as we walked side by side pass the Seam and closer towards the hall of justice.

The youngest of the kids were filed farther back in the square with the eldest towards the front leaving a fair amount of space for Peacekeepers to stand in between us and the parents. Up on the stage of the Justice Building there sits only three mahogany chairs in front of an old wooden podium that seat the mayor of District 12, Effie Trinket, and District 12's only victor of two that is alive to this day, Haymitch Abernathy.

He won the second Quarter Quell fourteen years ago by outsmarting all the other tributes and was the year when twice the amount of tributes were placed in the games, forty-eight aside from the yearly twenty-four. My father recalls that he was a genius in the arena and knew more skills than him at the time, but the alcoholic man in his thirties up on stage would give you immediate doubts.

Once everyone is assembled the mayor rises from his seat and calmly steps to the podium. He speaks through a microphone that projects his soft alto voice and gives the same statement his is required to each year of the reaping. How we rebelled against our mother the Capital and repaid for our rebellion through the yearly Hunger Games which commemorate and remind us of who it is the holds all power.

As the mayor walks back to his seat Effie Trinket rises next and walks lively up to the podium in very high heeled shoes accompanied by her varying attire of colorful clothing and heavy make-up that is quite common of Capital citizens.

"WELCOME, WELCOME," she blares into the mic with her Capital accent. "Now the times has come for one young man and woman to bravely represent District 12 in the sixty-fourth annual Hunger Games. As always, ladies first." As graceful as a dancer she swiftly made her way towards one of the two large glass spheres containing the names of the girls. She places her pinked powdered hand over the opening and a second later appears holding a thing strip of paper. Stepping elegantly back to the podium in front of the mic she opens the slip and reads the name.

"Sophia Gallagher."

Many of the kids begin to look about themselves and seek out the girl who has been chosen, to give thanks with their eyes to one of two who will go in their place. We begin to make a wide open path that will lead directly up to the stage and standing alone in the open path is a Seam girl who appears no older than ten.

Subtle voices begin spread around the square at the sight of someone so young being drawn from the reaping.

"Come along dear," Effie says beckoning her onto the stage as two Peacekeepers accompany her onto the stage. "Excellent," she said gesturing Sophia to stand in front of the podium on the stage not at all as astonished as everyone else was at her being chosen. "Now for the gentlemen." With that she makes her way to the other glass sphere and hovers here handover the opening as she had done for the girls' sphere.

I can feel many bodies around me tense and stir, I even see some of the younger boys behind me holding hands tightly as their knuckles begin to whiten. I cautiously wrap my arm over Ben's shoulder pulling him in close to me, all the while begging to what ever good force may be out there that he not be called.

I must have looked away from Effie for no more than five seconds but she is already standing back at the podium with a thin slip of paper already open, her lips beginning to form the written name.

"Jonquil Noctis."


	3. Chapter 3

Here is chapter 3!

 **I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES!**

Enjoy!

* * *

The fear in all of the other boys has vanished. I pull away from Ben and my hand falls back to my side. All eyes are finally on the person who's name has been drawn and slowly make a clear path for me to walk atop the stage.

I was just about to leave my place when my arm was tugged back.

"NO!" I looked back to my left to see Ben with both hands tightly gripped on my forearm cutting off any circulation. I looked back towards the arch formed by the Peacekeepers and saw a few making their way towards me.

"No Ben, let go now," I tried keeping my voice in control as to not make him panic anymore than he already was, but the more I tried prying his hands off the more they constricted. "Please, please Benny, let go." I hadn't called him that since we were young kids but it managed to loosen his grip. I seized my chance and escaped his death grip walking on the clear path towards the stage.

"No! Jon!" I paused and looked back to Ben being struck in the face with the stock of a Peacekeeper's gun and fell to ground.

"No, no!" I looked further back and saw my father shoving his way to the front. "My boy! My boy!" He was brought down by two Peacekeepers who needed another two to hold him down in place while they handcuffed him.

I immediately turned back towards the stage trying to keep a face that showed no fear and made my way up the steps. I could see behind the mask of Effie's makeup that even she was repulsed by the brutality of the Peacekeepers. _Guess some of them are human after all._

I stood right beside Sophia as Effie was right between us with a heavily painted hand on our shoulders.

"Very well then," she managed trying to pull herself together. "The tributes of District twelve. No go on, shake hands," she encouraged.

I faced Sophia and was appalled by how much younger she looked from twelve years. Her dark straight hair was in two separate braids and her olive skin was more wan as she held out her small hand to me. I held it gently in mine with it only being able to wrap around my fingers and was cold to the touch. Her glassy grey eyes would not meet my own. How could they not? If by some miracle it came down to the two of us in the games, one of us would have to kill the other.

"Happy Hunger Games," Effie cheered into the mic. "And... may the odds be ever in your favor."

My last view of the audience before us was of them pressing three fingers to their lips and saluting us as we prepared to leave for the capital.

* * *

The train was delayed for departure because of an unexpected heavy rain that began to fall shortly after the reaping.

Tributes were required to be in the waiting room in the hall of justice before departing. We were able to spend some of that time separately with any family that wanted-more so had the courage-to say goodbye.

My shoulder was resting against a windowpane as my eyes traced the raindrops that fell against the glass.

The door was shoved open and I saw Ben there with his shoulders slightly damp. We collided with one another and I held him while running a hand through his hair as he sobbed in my chest.

"No," was all I could make out from his voice.

"Shh Benny, it's okay, it's okay," I inhaled the sweet scent of his hair given off from the moisture that coated it.

With him still in my arms I guided us on the small couch in front of the window. Hours had seemed to have passed before his body stopped quivering.

"I just got you back," he mumbled.

"What?" I pulled away with his head still down. "What do you mean 'you just got me back'?" His grey eyes were already red. "Benny, you never lost me." I gently rubbed the scratch from the Peacekeeper's rifle on his cheek. "I never stopped caring about you or thinking of you as my friend."

A smile slowly formed on his face and I wiped away the last few tears that fell. "Maybe, you can win it," he said hoarsely. "You're good at hunting and I've seen you fight before with older kids when we were young."

"Yeah, maybe I can win. So don't give up on me yet."

"I won't," he said and placed his head back against my chest.

"What happened to my dad?" I asked.

"I don't know, I only saw them take him away from the crowd."

"Benny?"

"Yeah," he said gripping my dress shirt.

"If I don't make it out, promise that you'll look after my dad."

He shot back in fear. "But you just said you could-"

"I know, I know. But if I _don't_ Benny, will you promise me that. I don't want him to do anything reckless if I'm gone."

He exhaled slowly. "Alright. I promise."

We both rose off the couch when the door opened again to a Peacekeeper stepping inside with his rifle slung over his shoulder. "Your times up," he motioned at Ben who then drew me in one last tight embrace. "Common," the Peacekeeper said pulling on Ben's sleeve. Before he could use more force Ben quickly pulled away slightly looking into my eyes and then kissed me. It was brief but long enough for me to feel the softness of his lips against mine. The Peacekeeper gripped his arm and hauled him out the door.

"Wait," I protested but the door was slammed shut.

I was left alone in the room with too many thoughts to process at once. I stepped back towards the window but alarmed at the door knob being turned. The door slowly opened and my father stood their in the threshold his head nearly reaching the top part. One of his eyes was swollen and bruising while blood trickled from a cut on his forehead.

"Dad..."

He limped towards me and drew me into his arms and buried his face in my neck.

"My boy, not my baby boy." I could feel warm moisture on my shoulder. My own arms came around him and supported some of his weight.

"Dad."

He pulled away with a more stern look in his eyes that were still glassy. "Son, remember everything that I taught you. Exam your environments, work with them and use them to help you survive."

"I will dad."

He gripped the fabric on my shoulders and clench his teeth, biting back more tears and sobs. "This wasn't how it was suppose to be. You were suppose to come back home when all of this was over."

"Dad, please."

"But, maybe you can still come back home. I know you can stand up to even those carriers, I know there's still a chance you can still come back-"

"DAD!"

He froze and his lifeless eyes were finally fixed on mine.

"There's a chance that I might _not_ come back."

"Son, you don't know that for sure."

" _Be prepared for the worst_. That's always what you told me dad, and now I'm telling you to please be prepared if I don't come back."

"No. No I can't. I already lost the woman I love, I don't want to lose my boy." His face was back in my neck with more tears and sobs in pursuit. I cradled his quiver body and never thought that I would be doing this to my own father. Comforting him as if he were the child and I the parent. He kissed my forehead and gripped the back of my hair. "Promise me that you'll try. Try to win."

"I will dad. I promise."

The Peacekeeper was back again through the door not needing to confirm our time was up.

My father drew me back into a fierce hug kissing the top of my head. "I love you so much my son," he said softly, and then was gone.

* * *

We boarded the train half an hour later once our farewells were made. The trains throughout Panem exceeded over two hundred miles per hour so we would be in the capital in the late morning.

Once aboard the train Effie took us to a cart made out entirely in a dinning room layout with eating utensils that were probably made from real silver and plates were scattered with food that I had never seen before. I had more complications on how I should eat it rather than where to start eating from the assortment.

"Now, you too help yourselves to whatever you would like while I go get Haymitch," I was surprised that her makeup didn't melt off from the rain.

Once she was gone I took a seat on a polished wooden chair and began pile a plate with foods that I looked the most appealing to me. Sophia took a seat right next to me and looked from every corner of the table not knowing what to do.

"These are pretty good," I said handing her a bread that was wrapped and filled with chocolate that was still warm.

"I want my mom," her voice cracked at the last word and hid her face to cry.

"Hey, sweetie. I know that you're scared." I turned to face her and pushed stray wisps of her dark hair away from her face, my hand so pale against her olive skin. "Would it make you more comfortable if I told I'm scared too."

Her sobbing lessened and she looked up at me. "Really?" she asked. "I thought big kids don't get scared."

"And who told you that," I said wiping away stray tears falling from those grey orbs.

"All the other big kids say that."

"Well I'll let you in on a secret. Everyone gets scared of something. Kids, big kids, and even adults."

Her eyes had dried and then she leaped off her chair and into my lap clinging to me desperately. "Please don't let them hurt me!" she cried. "Don't let them hurt me."

I brought my arms around her and slowly rocked her small shaking body. _Why is it that she's saying hurt instead of kill?_ So even kids her age could accept the fact that there was no other way out of this.

"Shh shh, don't worry sweetie. I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise."

"Okay," she mumbled, her body becoming more relaxed.

"Here we are!" Effie cheered as the card door opened. "Oh my," she looked at the fragile thing in my arms a pained look on her face. "Well then, I guess I'll leave this to you then." And the lone victor of District 12 walked in before us. Haymitch Abernathy.


End file.
